


Something More

by Heather_Night



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Child Neglect, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/pseuds/Heather_Night
Summary: “Hey, what do you little bitches…Adrian?”Out of the frying pan and into the fire.  Adrian knew that voice.  That voice scared him.It was Deran’s brother, Baz.Someone grabbed his arm and hauled him off the sidewalk, his feet stumbling.  He’d like to blame it on the manhandling but Valeria’s punch had done some damage.  “Fucking stupid kid, come on.”And that was Deran’s other brother, Pope.Pope, who seemed to either want to hit him or laugh at him.  Adrian never knew where he stood with the guy.Fuck this night.





	Something More

**Author's Note:**

> At its heart, this is a story about friendship, newly discovered family and possibilities. It is not canon compliant although it's set in the same 'verse as show...I'm just playing fast and loose with relationships, characterizations, events and timelines.
> 
> This is the second fic I started for this fandom (back in July) and I hadn't really planned on it seeing the light of day--it was a vehicle for me to get comfortable writing these characters--but somewhere along the way I fell in love with the idea of exploring Pope's good side, including his penchant for being protective of those he cares about.
> 
> Happy New Year!

Adrian was having a craptastic day.

His mom and her husband—he refused to call him stepdad—were moving to the east coast as soon as they sold the house and Adrian wasn’t welcome to come with them. His mom’s husband, Steven, had broken the news to him this morning while his mother sat pale but composed at the dining room table. 

Adrian, just a few months shy of eighteen, didn’t want to move with them anyway but there was nothing like getting confirmation that his mom really didn’t love him. Or at least she loved Steven more.

Steven, the asshole, had taken great pleasure in informing Adrian that his dad couldn’t be bothered with him. It wasn’t exactly news seeing as Dior Dubois, an in-demand session guitarist in LA always on the verge of catching his big break, hadn’t seen Adrian since he was five.

Now Adrian was holding up the wall at this party watching his best friend Deran shove his tongue down some girl’s throat. Adrian wanted to be happy for Deran, and he certainly didn’t want to cock block him, but he didn’t understand why he always had to play Deran’s wingman. 

Adrian didn’t even like girls. He liked crowded parties about as much as he liked girls.

He checked his watch and decided he’d put in enough time and he could leave. He tried to catch Deran’s eye but when his friend looked over the girl’s shoulder and made eye contact, he quickly turned his back on Adrian.

Okay, then, Adrian could take a hint. He was obviously being dismissed. Mission accomplished.

A few people smiled at him and tried to get him to stop and chat but Adrian’s head was pounding and he just wanted to get outside. Of course, Deran had driven them in his brother’s pride and joy, the green Scout, which meant Adrian had one hell of a hike back home.

Temporary home?

Fuck it, he’d worry about housing tomorrow. Crap. He really did have to worry about housing. He’d need first and last month’s rent for a deposit and affording something half-way decent wasn’t going to be cheap.

Fuck it. Tomorrow. These problems would still be here tomorrow.

Too bad Adrian didn’t have his skateboard. It was the next best thing to surfing and it was faster than walking, that’s for damned sure. It also gave him a chance to think as he mindlessly shoved with a foot, coasting when he could.

Just one more regret to add to the list.

The upscale neighborhood slowly turned into one that had fallen on hard times but he kept his feet moving and his eyes downcast. He knew better than to make eye contact with a soul; that was the quickest way to a beatdown in this part of town. He was wearing ripped jean and a worn Henley so he thought he wouldn’t stick out as a target, especially if he kept to the brightly lit sidewalks.

Wrong.

“Well if it isn’t the other pretty boy.” The voice was pitched low for a female and harsh with a slight accent but Adrian recognized it right away.

 _Fuck._. 

It was the girl from high school who went out of her way to antagonize Deran. Something about a turf war? Adrian hadn’t particularly paid attention because he’d thought Valeria was flirting with Deran more than warring but now that he was in an unknown neighborhood, being called out by this chick, he was beginning to rethink his choice of walking home.

“Que onda guero?” she persisted. Adrian’s Spanish was passable and he was pretty sure that was slang for _what’s up white guy_?

Valeria stood in front of him, arms crossed over her ample chest, looking him up and down. “You and me, we could have some fun. What do you say?”

Oh, shit. Adrian wasn’t sure of the right response. Hell, he didn’t know if there was a right response. “I, ah, don’t think that’s a good idea. But, um, thanks?”

He sensed a presence at this back and yep, two more tough looking girls stood right behind him. 

Valeria pushed a finger into his chest. "Mis amigas me dijeron que they saw you making out wit a guy, they said you a maricón!" 

Adrian snorted. Her girlfriends couldn’t have seen him making out with a guy because Adrian hadn’t gotten around doing that. It was on his bucket list. Girls did nothing for him but guys…there were at least some possibilities there.

"Loser, you a maricón." Someone pushed him in the back and he smashed into Valeria. 

The girl in front of him pushed back hard, sending him reeling, before she pulled back a fist and decked him in the face. He didn’t think he was supposed to punch a girl but maybe there was some clause if you were protecting yourself?

A car squealed to a stop next to them and Adrian wondered if this was the end of the line. Was someone going to cap him for walking through this neighborhood?

“Hey, what do you little bitches…Adrian?”

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Adrian knew that voice. That voice scared him.

It was Deran’s brother, Baz. 

Someone grabbed his arm and hauled him off the sidewalk, his feet stumbling. He’d like to blame it on the manhandling but Valeria’s punch had done some damage. “Fucking stupid kid, come on.”

And that was Deran’s other brother, Pope. 

Pope, who seemed to either want to hit him or laugh at him. Adrian never knew where he stood with the guy.

Fuck this night.

-0-

Deran was confused.

He was making out with this beautiful chick and the only person he could think about was Adrian.

It wasn’t normal. His brothers would fucking beat the gay out of him if they knew. He didn’t even want to think about how Smurf would react.

Deran constantly pushed down his feelings but he knew there were cracks in his façade. He woke up sometimes having dreamed about Adrian—X-rated dreams—and his day was always pretty shitty unless he could spend time with his friend.

He’d known Adrian hadn’t wanted to come out tonight but it wasn’t safe spending time one-on-one with the guy right now. A party seemed the best option because he could pretend to be normal while keeping an eye on Adrian.

Looking at him.

Deran’s phone buzzed in his pants and he figured Adrian was letting him know he wanted to go. He’d caught a glimpse of the guy a little while ago, leaning up against the wall, looking like his dog had just died. He didn’t have a dog but—

His phone buzzed again and he scowled. The stacked girl in his arms pushed back from him and crossed her arms. “Is that more important than I am?”

“It’s not like that, baby.” Deran channeled his best Craig impersonation. He didn’t have Craig’s height or his cheekbones but he had killer blue eyes and he tried to work them. “Let me just see who this is.” He pulled out his phone and read the message.

_911\. Home now._

“Okay, it is like that. I gotta go. Family emergency or some shit. I’ll call you later.” Deran brushed his lips against hers and disappeared into the crowd. He realized he didn’t have her phone number but right now he didn’t really care.

He navigated the bodies while tapping out a response. _Finding Adrian. Be home in twenty._

_Adrians w us._

That was…ominous. Adrian wasn’t comfortable around Baz and he didn’t like being at Deran’s house because Smurf made him uncomfortable, too. 

Adrian adored Craig and for some reason didn’t seem to mind Pope but that didn’t explain what his friend was doing at his house. Without Deran. Especially when Adrian’s ass—and what a fine ass it was—was supposed to be at this party.

Deran slid his phone into his pocket and yanked at his hair, frustrated. 

He fired up the Scout, slamming it into gear, peeling away from the curb. The drive home was tense but he chewed on the quick of his thumb nail to keep himself from calling Adrian.

The gate was up ahead and he punched the code into the security panel so hard, he just about broke it. He squealed the tires again as he rocketed into the driveway, slamming the Scout into park just shy of Baz’s wheels. 

Deran stalked into the house, on the verge of screaming his friend’s name, when he heard voices in the kitchen.

“Here, dumbass, put this on the bruise.” Pope sounded like he was on his last nerve and if Deran had to guess, the dumbass in question was Adrian. What had his friend managed to do?

“Thanks.” Adrian’s voice, always soft spoken, had a note of defeat in it. 

Deran turned the corner and confirmed his suspicions; Adrian was seated at the island, holding a bag of frozen vegetables to his left cheek, Pope hovering next to him.

It was weird because Pope didn’t usually hover. Although his OCD bro liked things neat and tidy so maybe that was what he was doing as he loomed behind Adrian.

At least Baz wasn’t around.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Deran’s question came out more hostile than he’d intended but he couldn’t run up to Adrian and smooth his hands over his face, checking for injuries, the way he wanted to. 

Adrian flinched at the sound of his voice but kept his head down.

“Adrian decided to take a walk through Back Gate and got caught by some MLS gang banger wannabes. What was the chick’s name?” Pope nudged Adrian’s arm.

Adrian’s shoulders rounded more if that was possible. “Valeria.”

“Yeah, Valeria. She was smacking Adrian around and me and Baz just happened to be driving by, wondering what stupid asshole would be walking around there by themselves, and lo and behold, your best friend was the stupid asshole in question.” Pope crossed his arms but he didn’t have that manic look in his eyes. In fact, if Deran had to guess, he was a little amused by the whole situation.

Pope’s phone signaled an incoming text. He checked the message and sighed. “Gotta go.” 

“Thanks, Pope.” Adrian’s words were simply but heartfelt. He didn’t seem particularly scared by Pope’s brand of caring. Pretty much just resigned.

“You can thank me by staying overnight and staying out of trouble, Adrian. You pull that shit again and I’ll be the one smacking you around.” With those parting words Pope exited the kitchen.

Deran moved across the kitchen. He wanted badly to touch his friend but he thought that was weird. “What happened?”

Adrian lowered the Jolly Green Giant bag of frozen veggies and Deran winced as he saw the red splotch on Adrian’s left cheekbone. The area was swelling, rounding the usually sharp edge, pushing toward his eye. It was going to be one hell of a shiner.

Taking a deep breath, Adrian answered. “I had a headache and I wanted to leave. You were…in the middle of getting to know that girl’s tonsils so I decided to take off on foot.” 

Deran smirked at that description of his making out but the smirk left his face when he realized he’d ignored Adrian, maybe put him in danger. Adrian didn’t put on a tough guy front like most of the guys Deran knew. He was physically fit, and mentally tough, but he didn’t exactly do confrontations if he could avoid them.

That made him a bit of a target for assholes and Deran had spent a good portion of his school years trying to protect his friend. He’d let him down tonight, that’s for sure.

“So, you thought, it’s a nice night for a walk? What the fuck, A? What happened to situational awareness?” Deran felt like one of those assholes as Adrian shrunk into himself. To be honest, Deran was an asshole, just not usually with his best friend.

Adrian shrugged, and looked down at the counter. 

“So, Valeria jumped you?” Deran prompted, needing to know the whole story.

His friend crinkled his nose up—the freckles standing out against the pale skin—but winced as the movement pulled on his bruised cheek. 

“She called me the other pretty boy, asked if I wanted to have some fun with her and when I respectfully declined, she called me a maricon. Her friends turned it into a shoving match and somehow Valeria’s fist found my face. Your brothers happened to be driving by and witnessed my humiliation, stopping and coming to my rescue.” He took a deep sigh. “I got my ass handed to me by a chick and was saved by your brothers who hate my guts. Do me a favor and leave me home next time you want to party.” Adrian rubbed his temple with his free hand, reapplying the bag to other side of his face.

Deran cracked a smile because Adrian was an amusing smartass and his summation of the evening’s events was fucking hilarious. 

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grasping Adrian’s chin, tilting his head up. “For the record, Pope doesn’t hate you.”

Adrian’s pretty blue eye, the one not hidden by the bag, flared wide. “How can you tell?”

“He saved your ass, brought you home and gave you ice. I’m not even sure he’d do that for me.” Deran realized he wasn’t even kidding; Pope would probably call Deran a dumbass but that’s where the similarities would end. He’d hand Deran off to Craig and that would be that.

Deran released his grip on Adrian’s chin. Things were getting a bit uncomfortable. 

Uncomfortable in the crotch of his pants.

“Let me get you some Tylenol and then we can turn in. Do you need to let your mom know you’re staying the night?” Deran went to the cupboard and pulled down the bottle of pain reliever and filled a glass with filtered water. When he turned around, he found Adrian staring into the distance, face blank.

“Adrian?” Deran set the pills and glass in front of his friend.

Adrian startled and then focused on Deran. His smile was crooked, and sad. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for the pills.”

Once Adrian had swallowed the pills, his throat bobbing gracefully and boy did that do things to the uncomfortable crotch situation, he slid off the chair. He staggered a step, hip colliding with the kitchen island.

Deran jumped to his side to steady him, hand wrapped around his upper arm. “Wow, she really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

Adrian’s blush burned over his face and it made Deran want to see what else he could do to get Adrian to blush like that. His friend shrugged and leaned into Deran’s side.

There was a rightness to the situation. Adrian belonged next to Deran.

Tucked into his side, leaning on him.

Soon to be in his bed.

Not that Deran would do anything with the opportunity. 

He was sorry Adrian had gotten hurt but it was shaping up to be a pretty special night from Deran’s perspective. And he somehow had Pope of all people to thank for it.

-0-

Adrian woke up reluctantly, his dreams fading against his wishes. There had been the usual nightmares but he vividly remembered a dream that was good, someone was holding him and running fingers through his hair, and it had given him a sense of comfort. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way. Why’d he have to wake up?

His neck was sore and he was about to roll over when he realized he was laying on his side, head propped up on…someone? That someone had an arm around his back, holding him close, and yep, fingers scritched his scalp and petted through his hair.

Someone banged on the door and Adrian found himself tipped onto his back. He opened his eyes to the sight of Deran pulling on a t-shirt, his rounded ass encased in navy boxer briefs, moving toward the door. He opened it and Craig’s jovial voice boomed, “Morning boys. Heard A had quite an adventure last night.”

Adrian leaned on his forearms to give himself leverage and then pushed until he was sitting up. Blinking as Craig opened the blinds, he made a sort of strangled yelp as the infusion of bright sunlight assaulted his head.

Craig laughed before plopping down next to him, the bed quaking at the additional weight. “Let me look at ya, Rocky.”

Deran huffed from across the room but he kept his distance. Adrian missed having him near but submitted to Craig’s poking and prodding to his face. “That, my friend, is one helluva shiner. What possessed you to stroll through Back Gate solo? I would’ve given you a ride home, all’s you had to do is call.”

Rubbing his good eye, Adrian leaned away from Craig’s enthusiastic assessment of his bruise. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. How did Deran stand being the focus of Craig’s attention all of the time? Adrian found it exhausting and he’d only just woken up.

“Leave him alone, Craig.” Deran’s tone was tolerant. Even amused. 

The phone sitting on the nightstand next to the bed buzzed loudly. Craig snatched up the phone and boldly read the message. “Oh boy, your ass is grass, A. Thievin’ Steven is foaming at the mouth because you didn’t come home last night.”

Adrian sighed—he’d done that so much in the last twenty-four hours it was surprising he still had any air left in his body—and held his hand out. Craig obligingly slapped the phone into his palm.

He read the message and Craig wasn’t lying, Steven was seriously pissed off and demanding he come home right now. His face pulled from the pressure of frowning.

“You want to hit the beach for a set before you head home?” Craig stood up, finally giving Adrian some space. He didn’t mind it when Deran was in his personal bubble but Adrian got twitchy when others invaded it.

Adrian threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. At least the room didn’t spin this time. “I’m gonna head home but thanks.”

“What about mowing the lawn before you leave? Might take the edge off.” Craig’s antidote for whatever ailed a person was getting high but Adrian declined with a shake of his head. He would’ve loved to take the edge off his anxiety but he needed to get on with the day and remaining clear headed was probably a good idea.

He slid a look over by the door but Deran was gone. Adrian wished he could hang out with the Cody Brothers but he’d better stop at home and then he had to be to work at 10:30 a.m.

“Here, take some more Tylenol. What time are you off of work?” As if conjured by his thoughts, Deran appeared with a bottled water and some more pain reliever.

Smiling benevolently, Craig stretched, cracking his back.

Adrian winced at the noise as he downed a couple of pills. When he came up for air from chugging water he answered, “I should be off at 3:30.” The diner closed at 3 p.m. but there was cleaning and set up involved so that whoever was starting at 6:30 a.m. for 7 a.m. opening wasn’t rushed off their feet. Having worked the opening shift Adrian was definitely in favor of putting in the extra thirty minutes at close of business.

Craig moved toward the door, knocking his shoulder into Deran; Adrian supposed it was some sort of Cody shorthand, maybe a sign of affection, but he’d be perpetually bruised if lived like that. “Why don’t you drop A off at his house and I’ll meet you at the beach? I think Pope wanted to go and he can give me a ride.” He turned and made eye contact with Adrian, blushing a little. “Be sure to say hi to your mom for me.” 

He disappeared before Adrian could formulate a reply. Adrian knew Craig had a crush on his mom but it was a little, okay, a lot, unsettling because he also knew he looked very similar to her, minus the large bust. Did Craig know Adriana Dolan née Love used to do porn and that’s why he was so infatuated with her?

Oh. Porn. Adrian might’ve just figured out a way to get his first and last deposit for rent. He wasn’t interested in anything hardcore, and he refused to show his face, but he might be able to make a fast buck.

-0-

Deran didn’t know what to make of his brothers tagging along with him. He’d wanted to eat lunch at Breakfast Club Diner so he could see Adrian. Spend a little time with him by himself, or as much as possible when Adrian was waiting tables.

Craig had thought that sounded good and shockingly Pope had, too.

He couldn’t very well tell his brothers to fuck off because he wanted to have Adrian to himself but it had been a close thing.

“It’s too bad A couldn’t join us this morning. He would’ve shredded out there today.” Craig was smoothing down his hair and straightening his clothing. He had a certain look he wanted to maintain when he wasn’t surfing or working; something about attracting the babes.

Deran rolled his eyes as he watched his brother’s antics. Pope walked ahead of them. Maybe he was too cool to be seen with them. More like Craig was moving too slow.

Pope entered the diner before Deran could get ahead of him; he wanted to request Adrian’s section but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. The perky blond at the hostess station was confirming how many were in their party when Pope surprised Deran. “Can we be seated in Adrian’s section?”

The blond, Brittany, giggled. “I think there’s a booth in his section although he’s been pretty popular today. Right this way!”

Adrian wasn’t this chirpy so it couldn’t be a requirement for the job. Brittany must be naturally effervescent although if Deran had to put up with that for long he’d probably punch her. It’s a good thing Adrian was patient. 

Brittany drifted away after handing them menus. Craig watched her with interest. “Nice ass but she needs some Quaaludes or something.”

It was Pope’s first visit to the diner and Deran viewed it through his eyes. Memorabilia from the 1980’s covered the walls, from vintage skateboarding posters donated by the California Surf Museum to sports photos featuring the decade's heroes like Joe Montana and Jerry Rice. Neon-colored surfboards, snowboards and skateboards—including two Tony Hawks which was totally rad—were interspersed with vinyl record album covers. There were posters of the time period's signature movies, some that he recognized like "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," and “The Breakfast Club” and some he wished he didn’t like “Dirty Dancing," and "Top Gun".  
Deran had always been drawn to the large mural of the DeLorean from “Back to the Future” sailing over the beach.  
Pope stared at a TV playing videos from that decade and Deran thought his lips were moving in sync with the song but before he could ask, Adrian appeared. “Hey guys, how were the waves?”

Deran basked in Adrian’s bright smile. The left side of his face was bruising but at least the swelling around his eye was down. He realized Craig was talking a mile a minute about the waves while he’d been staring.

He checked himself for being so obvious and looked around, and damn it if Pope wasn’t watching him. His brother didn’t say anything although Deran didn’t delude himself he was off the hook; Pope was a little crazy, especially when he didn’t take his meds, but he was smart and observant which were the last things Deran needed at the moment.

“Sorry I missed it. I’d better take your drink order before the manager gets upset. Pope, Craig, what can I get you? I know what Deran wants to drink.” Adrian didn’t even bother to pull out his pad of paper to take their orders, relying on his memory. Deran would lose his freaking mind if he had to work here since his short-term memory couldn’t hold shit that he didn’t care about. Whatever other people ordered would definitely fall into the _I don’t give a shit_ category.

Adrian said he’d be back and Deran tried not to stare at his ass but the black shorts that made up his uniform were tight. The blue t-shirt with the diner’s logo wasn’t as tight but it still clung to Adrian’s rack nicely.

Jesus, he had it bad.

“Earth to Deran, earth to Deran, anyone home?” Craig was giving him shit but hopefully he didn’t know where Deran’s attention had disappeared to; his brother was a hardcore hetero and Deran didn’t think Craig would understand it if Deran was bi. 

Deran wasn’t sure _he_ understood but there was just something about Adrian that made him want to both touch and protect him which he knew was totally gay.

He had to salvage this before his brothers realized why he was distracted. “Just thinking about that one wave. I didn’t want to kick out but I thought I was running out of real estate.” At least that’s what Deran would be thinking of if he wasn’t busy crushing on his friend.

A table with two beach bunnies who looked to be in their twenties called Adrian over and began to flirt heavily with him. His face turned pink and that made the more aggressive chick coo at him; Deran wanted to beat her face in. Adrian pointed to their table and the girls both turned at look. The aggressive chick shrugged her shoulders, smiled, and then grabbed Adrian’s pen and scribbled something on the order ticket he handed her. He took the paper, tucked it into his apron, and excused himself.

Deran grinded his teeth.

To add insult to injury, both bunnies checked out Adrian’s ass as he walked away. Craig snorted. “A sure has the moves with the ladies.”

Deran would’ve liked to tease Craig that Adrian had more game than he did, but he was feeling vaguely nauseous from the scene that had just played out in front of him. The last time he’d been here, no one had flirted with Adrian like that. 

A table with one woman—she looked like she was in her mid-thirties but Deran wasn’t a good judge of age—claimed Adrian’s attention next. It looked like he was dragging his feet as he approached. She made him lean over so she could whisper in his ear or some shit and he sort of looked queasy.

Pope’s muscles tensed and Deran followed his line of sight; he, too, was staring at the table and not liking what he saw. What was that bitch saying to him?

Deran hadn’t even realized how tense he was until Pope knocked his forearm into his. “Waiting tables is hard work. I hope Adrian makes good tips.” His voice sounded fine but his face had that blank look Deran associated with a meltdown. 

Deran knew why he was offended on Adrian’s behalf but what was Pope’s deal?

His friend straightened and stepped back, away from the woman’s side, and excused himself.

After detouring to the kitchen Adrian made it to the table with Deran’s Passion Guava Fruit drink, Pope’s orange juice and Craig’s Mr. Pibb. “Sorry about the wait, guys. Did you decide on what you want to order?”

His drink was handed out last and Deran was staring into Adrian’s eyes, smiling his thanks, when Pope reached out and snagged Adrian’s arm. “Who did this?”

His friend flinched away, yanking his hand back, settling the black leather bracelet more securely around his wrist. “It’s nothing.”

Deran wanted to do, or even say, something but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact Adrian was sporting another bruise. 

“That’s definitely something. Do you know how much force has to be applied to cause a bruise like that?” Pope imparted his physics knowledge and Adrian’s shoulders curled forward, his face turning pink again. 

At the conclusion of Pope’s impromptu lecture, he smacked his palm on the top of the table. “Last time I’m gonna ask. Who did that to you?”

Adrian sighed. “Steven wanted to ground me and he took offense to something I said. If it’s any consolation, I won that round.”

Pope stared at Adrian, maybe trying to judge the accuracy of what he’d said, before he changed the subject. “What the hell is Crunchy Munchy French Toast?”

The relief was visible in Adrian’s body language as he took the life preserver Pope had thrown him and ran with it. His friend talked Pope into trying the dish and Craig and Deran, both subdued in the wake of Pope’s behavior, followed suit. 

After gathering up the menus, Adrian reached into his apron pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. He slapped it down in front of Craig. “The brunette said you’re hot and you should call her some time.” He walked away before Craig had a chance to say anything.

“That Adrian is something else. He’s a real good guy.” High praise from Craig.

“Something’s not right with him. I want you to keep a close eye on him, Deran. You come to me if someone is fucking with him.” Pope took a sip of his juice while checking his cell phone.

Deran glanced at Craig who shrugged his shoulders; something was off with Adrian and Deran planned on keeping a close eye on him but it was weird having Pope’s blessing—more like order—to do that.

“When’s Smurf coming back?” Craig asked.

Smurf. Just the thought of her almost killed his appetite. He wanted her approval so bad but at the same time things were always nicer when she wasn’t around. He’d been ignoring her return and here Craig was, making him think of it.

It felt like his life was imploding all of a sudden. He hoped Craig would be around later because he was pretty sure he needed some pharmaceutical therapy. Maybe Adrian could join them and then he’d find out what was going on with his friend.

-0-

Yesterday had been the second consecutive shitty day for him and seeing the Codys at the diner had been the only bright spot. Craig always made him smile and Pope was…unsettling but Adrian didn’t think he meant him any harm. Deran was Deran. The best. Once they’d left his day had tanked.

Today had picked up pretty much where yesterday had left off…another shitty day.

Adrian knew he was moving at regular speed but it felt like he was in slow motion as he worked his assigned stations at the diner. The breakfast rush had been insane but the tips were worth it. He’d put off taking his lunch break so he could help with the lunch rush, too.

He needed the money.

Usually he enjoyed the 80s soundtrack playing but today it made his head ache worse. It was hard to plaster a smile on his face and be nice when the only thing he wanted to do was lay down.

At the moment there was lull and he knew he had to take advantage of it. His mind wandered as he did the menial tasks involved in waiting tables like refilling water and iced tea pitchers and bussing tables. 

It was the whole thing with Steven that had him off kilter. The guy claimed that since it was his house, Adrian had to abide by his rules, but it wasn’t going to be his house for much longer and he was booting Adrian’s ass to the curb so why should Adrian comply with his shitty demands?

His wrist ached and Adrian wasn’t going to lie, it had taken him by surprise when Steven had grabbed him. Sure, Adrian was being a smart-ass but up until then Steven just said shitty stuff, belittling him, but he’d never laid a finger on him. Apparently, the gloves were off.

The scene at the house had moved up his time table and he needed to get into his own place sooner rather than later so Adrian had passed on Deran’s invitation to get slizzard with him and Craig last night. He knew Deran was stressing over Smurf coming back from her trip and he wanted to be there for him but first he needed to get his hands on some fast money. 

Deran hadn’t been happy when he’d turned down the invitation, ignoring Adrian who’d texted him on the train ride back from the city. He hated when they were at odds but Deran was the moodier of the two of them and Adrian knew sometimes he just needed to back off and give his friend some space. He just could’ve really used Deran’s support after his job instead of the silent treatment even though he’d never tell Deran how he’d made that money.

“Hi, Adrian. How’s it going?” 

Adrian squeaked in surprise, spilling water from the full pitcher in his hand over the floor.

“Um, hey Brittany.” It wasn’t her fault she’d startled him but he couldn’t dredge up any energy for a greeting. A lot of the staff didn’t like working with the super upbeat Brittany but Adrian liked her. She was a hard worker and did more than her fair share. 

She looked at him thoughtfully before she helped him mop up the wet mess. When they both straightened, she frowned; it was an awkward looking expression on the perpetually smiling face. “Are you feeling ok?”

“I, uh, why do you ask?” Adrian wasn’t going to spill his secrets to his co-worker but she was staring at him like she knew something was going on.

She reached out and gently touched his hand. “You’re shaking.”

“Huh. Must be low blood sugar. I’ll get something to eat on break.” He forced a smile. Now that he was thinking about it, it had been a while since he’d had something to eat.

Brittany checked the floor. “Why don’t you take that break now? It’s slow right now.” 

“Yeah, all right. Thanks, Brittany.” The bell on the door rang and she went off to seat the new party. Taking Brittany’s advice, Adrian clocked out for his break.

Adrian had planned on begging Marco the cook to make him something—he was always experimenting on new dishes and looking for a guinea pig—but now that he had the time and opportunity to eat, he felt too shitty. The back of his head pulsed with pain and his stomach churned. Instead of eating he put his head on the table in the break area and continued to obsess over last night.

The trip to LA had gone as smoothly as possible but he hated riding the train alone. Not only that but he’d had to spend money in order to make some in the form of a round trip Amtrak ticket to LA. This whole foray into the porn industry was pretty mind blowing, for many reasons, but he really didn’t like hiding it from Deran. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of doing porn exactly but Adrian didn’t like to be touched—Deran was the exception to that rule—and his friend would’ve talked him out of it, offered to give him the money or something. Adrian valued Deran’s friendship but there was no way he was going to be beholden to Smurf. 

The guy he’d been paired with on the shoot, Max, was nice enough and tried to make the experience as pleasant as possible but being tied down while someone groped him made his anxiety levels spiral. It was a good thing he hadn’t needed to get a hard-on for the camera because that shit wasn’t happening. Max had pawed his ass thoroughly through the skintight boxer briefs and Adrian gave thanks there had been a layer between them otherwise he probably would’ve vomited. He was pretty sure that would’ve voided the contract.

Sex wasn’t really something Adrian was interested in and he knew that was weird. While trying to talk to his mom about it, Steven had butted in and accused him of being frigid. Just the thought of that conversation nauseated Adrian but he’d tried counseling and that hadn’t worked so it was possible that for once in his shitty life Steven was right about something. Adrian had resigned himself to maybe remaining a virgin. Sometimes he had thoughts about Deran but he didn’t know how to come out and ask him if he was into guys. Into Adrian. That seemed like a bloody lip at the least and possibly a broken friendship at the worst and Adrian couldn’t lose Deran’s friendship.

Deran was the only good thing in his life.

The alarm on his cell phone beeped; his hour lunch was up. 

Adrian stood up and the room spun. _What the hell was wrong now?_ It was a good thing he only had an hour left and then clean-up. After that he planned to go straight to bed and shake whatever bug he’d picked up.

The rest of the shift went by in a blur. Not a blur as in it was busy but Adrian couldn’t remember what he said or did.

“Adrian, give me your phone.” Brittany was back and how the hell had Adrian ever thought she was upbeat and nice? She sounded like a harpy, voice overly loud and strident.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out just to shut her up.

“Deran’s your best friend, right?” Demanding, that’s what Brittany was. He nodded to let her know she was right but wow, that movement made his head hurt so bad he thought he was going to cry.

She slipped his phone into his pocket—he wanted to complain that she was in his personal bubble but before he could—she was gone.

“Adrian? Jesus, you look awful.”

Adrian lifted his head from the table and squinted. “Deran?”

“Yeah, man. Come on, I’m going to give you a lift.” Deran’s voice was nice and deep. Nothing like Brittany’s screeching soprano. 

Deran laughed and the rumble was right next to his ear. “I like your voice, too. Now let’s get you out to the car. I’m double parked right out front.”

There was some sort of conversation between Deran and the harpy and then he was getting dragged upright. The headrush was incredible…for about five seconds and then Adrian thought he was going to puke.

It was bright outside and he buried his face in Deran’s shoulder as he shuffled his feet. This was another day he couldn’t wait to put behind him.

-0-

Deran had almost ignored Adrian’s text. He’d ended up reading it just to see if there was a new lame excuse as to why his friend had blown him off last night. 

_This is Adrian’s coworker. He’s sick. Can you give him a ride home?_

He’d fumbled his fingers as he’d typed out a response. Jesus, of course he’d come get Adrian. Nothing would ever prevent him from taking care of his friend.

He felt like shit for doubting Adrian when he’d said he wasn’t feeling up to hanging out the night before.

The blond, Brittany, had met him at the door. Deran had thanked her for contacting him but he’d practically bowled her over in his rush to get to Adrian’s side. His friend was pale and shaky and Deran had to wrap an arm around him to steer him outside into the waiting car.

He wouldn’t lie—he enjoyed having his arm around Adrian, pressing him to his side. His friend had buried his face in Deran’s neck and mumbled something cute about his voice being nice and deep. 

Now they were almost home. Deran’s home. There was no way he was going to dump his friend off at his own house. Either Adrian would be the only home or maybe even worse, Adriana and Steven would be there. That whole situation sucked.

He parked the Scout without the usual fanfare, easing it to a stop. Adrian was slumped in the passenger seat, eyes covered with a hand, looking like he was asleep.

“Hey, Adrian, we’re here.” Deran undid his seatbelt, opened and closed his door and made his way to the passenger side all before his friend moved.

“Deran?” Adrian squinted up at him when Deran opened his door. 

When Adrian made no further moves, Deran unbuckled his seatbelt and helped his friend out of the car. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Once again Deran guided Adrian, his arm curled around Adrian’s waist, as they made slow but steady progress. They made it inside and were almost to Deran’s bedroom when Adrian quit shuffling along. Deran’s hand had ridden below the light blue t-shirt Adrian wore for work and his skin wasn’t fever warm like he’d expected. If anything, it was a bit cool. “We’re almost there, A. Just a little farther and you can lay down.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Pope’s voice startled Deran.

It startled Adrian, too. His friend jumped, hand to his heart. Any color he’d had washed out of his face except for that stupid fucking bruise on his cheek. 

Adrian’s legs sagged and Deran found his arms full of dead weight.

Pope appeared at his side. “Jesus, what’s with the kid?”

“I don’t know? What do I do?” Deran hadn’t felt this panicked since…never. He had no idea what was wrong with Adrian so he didn’t know how to help him.

His brother pushed past him and Deran opened his mouth to call him back before he realized Pope was opening his bedroom door. “Don’t just stand there, pick him up and get him on your bed.”

Picking up Adrian wasn’t as difficult as Deran thought it would be. His friend was kind of light considering he was already a little taller than Deran but where Deran had some muscle, Adrian was lean strength. Deran managed to get an arm under Adrian’s knees and the other around his back and hefted him up toward his chest like an exaggerated biceps curl.

It was unnerving to see Adrian like this, arms and legs dangling and his head tilted back awkwardly over Deran’s arm. Sure, he’d seen Adrian passed out asleep before but this was different.

Before he knew it Deran was settling Adrian on his bed. He didn’t like that Adrian was out cold but at least in Deran’s arms he felt like he could protect him. Seeing him laid out on the flat surface was alarming and it took everything he had not to snatch Adrian back into his arms.

Pope bent over his friend, his fingers looking for the pulse on his neck and that’s when Adrian’s eyes opened. The noise he made sent chills down Deran’s spine. It was the high-pitched whimper of an animal in distress.

Deran wanted to knock Pope back out of Adrian’s space but his brother didn’t move. Instead his brother started talking in the softest voice Deran had ever heard him use. “It’s okay, Adrian. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. You passed out.”

Adrian shifted his focus from Pope to Deran, visibly relaxing as he spotted him. “What happened?”

Crossing his arms because what he wanted to do was pull his confused friend into a hug, Deran answered. “Brittany texted me, said you were sick and needed a ride home. I brought you here and you…” Deran paused searching for the right word.

“Fainted. You fucking fainted.” Pope finished for him.

Adrian’s brows pulled up in thought. “I did?”

Deran didn’t want to crowd Adrian but he sat down on the bed so he could be closer. “Yeah, scared the crap out of me. Do you have a headache? Stomach ache?”

“I have a headache and I’m really dizzy.” Adrian admitted, his attention completely on Deran.

“When’s the last time you had something to eat?” Pope interjected and Adrian startled but didn’t pass out this time.

Adrian pursed his lips in thought and Deran thought it was cute. He refocused on the problem at hand—something was going on with Adrian because healthy people didn’t just pass out.

Then his friend licked his lips and Deran was happy he was sitting down because that got a rise out of his cock. “Friday at lunch?”

Deran groaned. “That was two days ago and you only had some fries that you took off my plate.” Jesus, no wonder the guy had passed out.

Pope inserted himself back into the conversation but at least this time Adrian didn’t jolt in surprise. “Why?”

“I was gonna have something last night but there wasn’t anything at home and today I felt too shitty to eat.” Adrian chewed on his lower lip. His little habits were driving Deran crazy.

Pope moved toward the doorway but snapped directions over his shoulder. “Make sure he stays flat on his back so he doesn’t faint again. I’ll get some food.”

Adrian flopped an arm over his forehead. “I feel so stupid.”

Deran touched Adrian’s shoulder and started massaging it. His thumb kept seeking and finding bare skin above his t-shirt, absently rubbing in circles. “What’s going on with you?”

“Can we talk later?” He swallowed convulsively and Deran worried he was going to puke. 

He’d lay off the questions. For now. “Later.”

Pope reappeared with a bottled water and plate with some slices of toast with peanut butter and a peeled banana on the side. He handed the water over to Deran. “Have him sip this slowly.” He set the plate on the nightstand and disappeared again.

His brother was acting weird. He was always weird but he was taking it to a new level.

Deran removed his hand from Adrian’s shoulder to crack the water open and Adrian made a noise. “You need to have something to drink. Let me help sit you up.”

He levered Adrian up, his left arm beneath Adrian’s shoulders. Adrian’s eyelashes fluttered and Deran ended up holding more of his friend’s weight. “Adrian? You still with me?”

“Mmm hmmm.” Adrian kept his eyes closed though so Deran wasn’t so sure.

“Sip slowly,” Deran prompted as he settled Adrian more firmly in the crook of his arm and held the bottle to his lips.

Adrian cautiously sipped. It was weird holding Adrian like this, feeding him a bottle, but there was nothing sexual about it. His friend was obviously sick.

“Here, have him try some food.” Jesus, Pope was sneaky quiet. 

He handed his brother the water and took a slice of toast from the plate. “Take a bite of toast.” Deran held it to Adrian’s lips and his friend, eyes still closed, nibbled on a corner.

“Take some more. You need the calories.” Deran knew from being in the water that you had to regularly replace calories and so did Adrian. How did someone just forget to eat? Deran became cranky when he went too long without food. Adrian never really got cranky. No, his friend got super quiet when stuff bugged him. Kind of like he’d been over the last few days.

Crap.

“Can I sleep for a while?” Adrian’s eyes were cracked open but he still leaned heavily against Deran. 

Deran eased him down until he was flat on his back again. “Yeah, I’ll wake you up in a while to have some more.”

His breathing became even and his lips parted, slight exhalations audible. 

“Watch what his skin does,” Pope announced. Before Deran could ask what the fuck he was going to do, his brother pinched the skin on the back of Adrian’s left hand.

The skin retained its pinched shape before dropping back slowly into place.

Adrian pulled his hand away from Pope, and rolled toward Deran, tucking his hands and legs close to his body like a human turtle. His cheek rested against Deran’s thigh.

“He’s dehydrated. The skin should snap back rapidly but it didn’t. If he doesn’t start drinking, and eating, he’s gonna end up in the hospital.” Pope picked up the plate with uneaten toast and banana and moved toward the door, throwing over his shoulder, “No shoes on the bed.”

How the fuck did Pope know this medical crap? He hadn’t finished school but he knew some of the most obscure shit and Deran believed him. 

Now that Pope wasn’t around, Deran gave in to the impulse to touch Adrian. He smoothed Adrian’s hair out of his face and the movement revealed a frowning face. And that fucking bruised cheek. Deran petted his hair some more and Adrian sighed, his body relaxing.

After a while of watching Adrian—Deran was aware that was creepy as fuck but he had to make sure he was okay—he pushed to his feet and went to the foot of the bed. It was easy enough to wrestle Adrian’s shoes off of his feet and thank fuck his friend’s feet didn’t smell. If that had been Craig, he’d have needed an oxygen mask. 

Adrian shifted into the spot Deran had deserted, tucking his hands under his face like a little kid. He shivered which was weird because it wasn’t cold but Deran folded the comforter over to cover him.

He closed the door partway—he wanted to be able to hear if Adrian called for him—and moved toward the kitchen, running into a tall body.

“Why’s there an Adrian sized lump in your bed?” Craig didn’t have a good inside voice so Deran grabbed his arm and dragged him along. His brother easily could’ve stopped him but went with him without a fuss.

Pope was in the kitchen, covering the plate with saran wrap. “How is he?”

Deran opened his mouth to answer but Craig cut in, out of patience. “Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on here? Smurf is due home in a few hours and she’s not gonna want anyone’s drama ‘cept her own.” 

“Adrian wasn’t feeling good at work so I brought him back here. He, uh, passed out from dehydration or some shit.” Deran scratched the back of his neck; it was a nervous gesture and he shut it down as soon as he realized but both brothers had noticed it.

Pope set the plate aside and crossed his arms. “Kid’s malnourished, too. His mom’s a waste of space.”

“A hot waste of space.” Deran smacked Craig in the chest. His brother shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

Pope ignored him, focusing on Deran. “What’s the story with his parents?”

Adrian wasn’t one to talk about private shit but over the years he’d let stuff slip here and there. “His mom won custody and his dad disappeared from his life. She hooked up with lots of men over the years but this last one stuck around. I know Adrian can’t stand him and the feeling’s mutual.”

‘I still think there’s something else wrong. I mean what guy his age forgets to eat? And how does his mom not notice? Smurf might not be mother of the year but she sure as shit made sure you always ate.” Pope stared into the distance, fingers drumming on the counter top.

Deran put his hands on the kitchen island and leaned forward, letting it take some of his weight. “Adrian’s always been responsible. More responsible than those pieces of shit he lives with.”

“Adrian doesn’t like to be touched. Something happen to him?” Pope’s question was like a punch in the gut. 

Sure, Deran knew Adrian didn’t like to be touched. He’d always been that way. The only person he really let into his personal space was Deran and yeah, that fact was a bit of an ego boost, but Deran had never really thought about why his friend shied away from touch.

“What are you talking about? Since when? I’m always messing with him and he’s never said anything.” Craig was now frowning and it was a rare sight. 

Pope reached over and smacked Craig in the arm. Hard. “He flinches away when you touch him, dumbass, but he likes you so he doesn’t say anything.”

Jesus, Pope noticed everything.

Wait. _Pope noticed everything._

This was bad. 

“Deran, did someone abuse Adrian?” Pope’s eyes had that glint to them. He was a man on a mission.

“He never said anything. If it happened, it must’ve been before I met him. He keeps his shit pretty locked down but eventually I get him to spill. I would’ve worked on him if I’d known.” Deran felt like a shitty friend. He should’ve put it together himself. 

Adrian was very much a touch-me-not but he really got uncomfortable around women over thirty. Deran didn’t think his mom had ever done anything to Adrian, she barely noticed he was alive unless she needed something from him, but maybe one of her barbie doll friends had done something.

The thought turned his stomach. Adrian was like the sweetest person Deran knew and someone touching him…Deran’s brain was shorting out.

“Craig and I are gonna straighten up.” Craig yelped at being volunteered but didn’t argue with Pope. Few did. Pope turned to Deran. “Take some more water, see if you can get him to eat and drink. If he’s not better by the time Smurf is home, we’ll probably need to take him to a doctor.”

Pope had that sucking on lemons look. He hated doctors. More specifically he hated head doctors and the meds they wanted him to take. If Pope was talking about taking Adrian to a doctor, he thought it was pretty serious.

Deran trudged to the fridge and grabbed another bottle of water. Pope shoved the plate into his stomach as he walked by. He grunted at the contact but still muttered a thanks.

The whole thing—Adrian fainting, not eating or drinking enough, maybe being abused and Pope noticing—was giving Deran a headache.

Maybe he and Adrian could watch a movie and just chill.

At least until Smurf arrived and the shit hit the fan.

-0-

Adrian felt better.

He also felt incredibly stupid.

He considered himself if not smart, at least a survivor, and neglecting himself was not the mark of a survivor.

“Drink.” Deran handed him some Gatorade, classic lemon-lime, and Adrian obediently sipped from the bottle.

They were shoulder to shoulder, pillows stacked across the headboard supporting their backs and legs stretched out in front of them, watching _Highlander._. Adrian found Christopher Lambert’s slightly cross-eyed gaze charming while Deran liked to make fun of him. 

His head became heavy and his eyelids drooped. The Gatorade disappeared from his hand and he made himself comfortable on Deran’s shoulder. Maybe after another nap he’d feel more like himself.

Adrian woke up to hushed whispering. “You need to come out and eat dinner or she’s going to know something’s up. She’s like a shark who scents blood in the water.”

Well, Craig’s hushed whispering wasn’t so quiet and Deran shushed him.

He pushed away from his perch—Deran’s shoulder—and stretched. “Go do what you have to do. I can go home.”

“Nope. You’re not going back there tonight.” Deran slid off the bed, tucking his hair behind his ears. It was the gesture that declared Deran meant business.

“Fine. I’ll wait for you here.” Adrian’s voice matched Deran’s muted voice.

“There you are!” Craig, Deran and Adrian all jumped at Smurf’s voice. “Oh, Adrian. I didn’t know you were here. I suppose you might as well join us for dinner.”

She sounded as enthused making the offer as Adrian felt hearing it, which was to say not at all. 

Craig was the one who answered. “It smells delicious. We’ll be right out.”

Adrian made eye contact with Deran; his friend looked as sick as Adrian felt. He squared his shoulders; the least he could do was sit through a family meal to keep Deran company. He’d just keep his head down, speak only when spoken to and compliment Smurf’s cooking. Just like any other time he’d stayed for dinner.

His backpack was sitting on the dresser so he picked it up before stepping into the bathroom; Deran must’ve grabbed it for him at the restaurant which was awesome of him. Sometimes Adrian felt like his whole life was stuffed into the backpack so if he needed to leave quickly, he was ready. He went through the motions of getting cleaned up—he peed, washed his face, brushed his teeth and changed into a different shirt. He avoided his reflection in the mirror.

Baz was helping serve up the plates in the kitchen. It smelled like spaghetti and meatballs which normally Adrian loved but the thought of eating something tomato based was already giving him reflux. 

Smurf handed Adrian two plates. “Pope’s plate is in your right hand, sweetie.” She raised her eyebrow, waiting for a response.

“Thank you?” Adrian knew enough to show gratitude for the meal. Smurf was unimpressed. “Uh, Pope’s plate is in my right hand.” 

She reached forward as if to pat his cheek and paused as she noticed the bruising on his cheek. “Run along, dear.”

Adrian had first met Smurf when he ten. He suspected she still thought he was that age because she and _sweetied_ him without fail which was just wrong since he was almost eighteen years of age. At least she didn’t hit him with _baby_ ; every time he heard that endearment he wanted to puke.

He followed Deran outside to the table, glancing down at the plates. Pope’s serving was smaller so he handed the other one to the man. What difference did it make if he didn’t follow Smurf’s instructions? Not that he planned on admitting it to that woman. She was scary.

Smurf asked each brother what they had accomplished while she was away. Adrian tuned it out, intent on pushing his spaghetti around his plate.

“You’re supposed to eat it, dear, not just rearrange it.” Shit. Smurf was talking to him.

Ugh, now Adrian felt like he had to eat at least some of the meal. He twirled some spaghetti on his fork and took a bite. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

He made himself eat two-thirds of the plate even though it felt like he was going to explode.

Smurf’s attention moved to Baz who was quizzed on his girlfriend but it eventually drifted back to him. Turning bright blue eyes on him she pinned him in place. “It looks like you’ve been keeping secrets, Adrian.”

Adrian set his fork down carefully. Smurf couldn’t possibly know about his foray into porn already. That was just yesterday, for fuck’s sake!

What was he thinking? Smurf had her fingers in everything. She probably did know.

The dizziness from earlier seemed to be making a comeback. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as the matriarch began speaking again. “I see your house is on the market, Adrian. Are you moving?”

 _Oh_. Different secret. Although this one wasn’t really a secret, he just hadn’t had a chance to say anything to Deran yet.

Deran’s fork clattered on his plate. “You’re moving?” His friend looked wrecked. And betrayed. Then his face smoothed out just like Pope’s did and Adrian knew he had a problem.

His best friend didn’t like surprises, especially ones he had no control over. 

This was at least something he could smooth over. Assuming he could get Deran to listen to him. 

“What? No. Adriana and Steven are moving. I’m not going anywhere.” Adrian spoke just to Deran, ignoring everyone else at the table. Willing his friend to look at him.

Lips pulled into a straight line, Deran refused to make eye contact.

Wonderful.

-0-

Deran pushed all of his anxiety down and ignored it. He didn’t need his family knowing how thrown he was by the idea of Adrian moving.

Ignoring his feelings…hey, it was the Cody way. 

“Do you want me to go?” Adrian’s tone was tentative. Without looking at his friend he knew he’d be chewing on his lip and his fingers would be plucking at his clothing.

No, Deran didn’t want Adrian to go. He was pretty sure he wanted Adrian in his bed and maybe just not to sleep but he couldn’t go there. “You’re still recovering so no, I don’t want you to go.”

“Okay. Can I use your shower?” Was Adrian’s voice slurring? Deran thought liquids and food were supposed to make him better.

“Don’t use all the water.” Deran always teased Adrian about his too long showers—water conversation in SoCal was a thing but his friend didn’t seem to grasp it—but he didn’t really mind. Adrian always smelled good unlike most of the guys of his acquaintance.

Adrian didn’t respond, closing the bathroom door gently. Deran could hear Adrian brushing his teeth and starting the shower. He tried to rein in his imagination. Smooth, pale skin coated with soapy water…nope. He needed to think about something else.

Pope was definitely right, something was going on with Adrian. Maybe it was this moving thing. The one Adrian claimed he wasn’t going to make. So, if Adrian wasn’t moving where was he going to stay? Sure, he’d be eighteen soon but living on his own…that was pretty radical.

He didn’t see himself ever moving out if Smurf had her way. Hell, Pope still lived at home so what chance did he have of ever getting his own place?

The shower turned off and Deran could hear Adrian stumbling around. What if he tripped, or passed out again, and cracked his head open? 

Deran was on his feet and standing outside the closed door before he gave it much thought. “Adrian?”

Adrian huffed a loud sigh, muttering beneath his breath but too softly for Deran to hear what he was saying. It almost sounded like Adrian was carrying on a conversation with…himself?

What the fuck?

The door whipped open without warning and Adrian stumbled out, humid air following in his wake. He had a towel wrapped around his waist.

It took some doing for Deran to close his mouth. He felt like one of those cartoon characters with his eyes bugging out of his head, and his tongue lolling…Adrian was beautiful.

Deran was well aware that guys weren’t supposed to be beautiful. But what did you call a guy with gorgeous freckled skin, muscles standing out in stark relief against a too thin body, broad shoulders and a tiny waist? 

It was the biceps that really did it for Deran. Adrian’s biceps were a thing of beauty and it was probably from practicing his pop-ups on the board until he was perfect.

Not to mention Adrian’s blow-job lips and perfect jawline. 

He spun around and went to the dresser, reaching into a drawer and pulling out sleep pants and a t-shirt. Not knowing where to look in order to avoid drooling, Deran thrust the clothing at Adrian’s chest while staring into his eyes.

Something was wrong with Adrian’s eyes. Usually Deran noticed the deep blue of the ocean in Adrian’s eyes but right now the blue was a thin ring around still expanding pupils. 

Deran’s bedroom door swung up and Smurf filled the opening. “Everything okay in here, baby?”

With a gentle shove to Adrian’s low back, he sent his friend stumbling back into the bathroom. “Adrian’s just borrowing some sleep clothes.”

“You boys aren’t going to stay up all night playing video games, are you? You need your rest. And you’ll remember to set your alarm, right? Or do I need to get you up in the morning? If you get up early enough, I’ll make you breakfast. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Smurf had her head cocked to the side, all maternal concern.

Oh, crap, tomorrow was a school day. “Adrian’s actually not feeling that great so we’re going to turn in early. We’ll probably grab something on the way to school.”

“Come give me a hug, baby. I missed you. Did you miss me?” Smurf practically smothered him with her full body hug.

Deran made some noise of agreement because Smurf finally let up on her boa constrictor act and turned him loose with a kiss to the forehead. “I’ve got some errands to run but I expect you home right after school tomorrow. I want to spend time with my favorite boy.”

She sailed out the door and Deran closed it, leaning against it to catch his breath. He knew Smurf’s behavior wasn’t normal but that was some creepy shit right there. There was a time that Smurf’s words and actions would’ve made Deran feel at home but he wasn’t ten anymore.

He was practically a grown-ass man who needed to check on his friend.

Adrian shuffled out of the bathroom, t-shirt gaping a little to expose sharp collarbones and sleep pants riding low on his hips. 

Deran committed the sight to memory—Adrian in his clothing and if Deran had his way, it would happen more often—before he shoved it down and concentrated on his friend’s behavior.

Brushing the back of his hand across his cheek, batting a hand against his arm, Adrian mumbled and this time Deran could hear him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Adrian? What’s going on?” Deran kept his voice soft.

“Don’t let her touch me, okay?” Adrian’s eyes were wide, showing the freaky blown pupils, and he looked scared.

“I won’t let anyone touch you. Let’s get you comfortable on the bed, okay?” Deran put his hand on Adrian’s low back and his friend shied away.

“Please don’t make me get on the bed. Bad things happen there.” Oh, Jesus fuck. 

Deran backed off. “Okay, we won’t go on the bed.” He grabbed his cell phone and texted out a message to Pope asking him to come to his room with a 911 so he knew it was an emergency.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” Adrian had his arms folded over his chest, hugging himself.

Deran bit back his response about Adrian being the one to leave him, his house up for sale, but he chewed on his lip. Now definitely wasn’t the time. “No, I’m not leaving.”

Adrian stuck his thumb in his mouth and Deran’s eyes bugged out thinking he was sucking it but no, Adrian was chewing on his cuticle, a habit he’d outgrown five years ago. 

The bedroom door swung open and Pope stepped inside.

Adrian yelped, stumbling backward. 

Deran wrapped an arm around his friend’s waist to keep him from tripping; Adrian was not steady on his feet.

“What?” Pope’s tone was gruff. He swung his attention from Deran’s face to Adrian’s. “What the fuck? What’s he on?”

Body quivering, Adrian hid his face away, burying it against Deran’s neck. “Hey, it’s okay. Pope is gonna help us.” He angled Adrian away from the door to shield him from whatever had him spooked before addressing Pope. “He didn’t take anything. You saw what he ate at dinner.”

Pope pursued the hiding Adrian, pointing at his face. “That? Is not normal. His pupils aren’t supposed to be that size. Come on, I’m taking him to the ER. They can sort this out.”

Deran wanted to argue—he could take better care of Adrian than anyone else—but Adrian buried his face more deeply in the join of Dean’s neck and shoulder and shivered. “Yeah, okay.”

He thought for a moment about putting Adrian’s shoes on, or even socks, but his friend was weaving precariously. Deran seriously doubted Adrian could walk so he drew Adrian’s arm around his neck before scooping him back into his arms. 

Adrian kept his face buried against Deran’s neck, body still shaking.

The drive to the hospital was quiet. Tense. Pope wasn’t saying anything, Adrian occasionally moaned and Deran was freaked out by both of them.

Pope pulled up to the ER entrance. Tri-City Medical Center had that institutional look to it but that seemed to be what Adrian needed.

While Deran was staring at the building, Pope had gotten out and opened the back door. He grudgingly handed Adrian over to his brother but as soon as Deran was standing, he took back custody of his friend. Adrian was at least standing on his own feet but his eyes were unfocused and he kept swiping at the air. 

“Take him inside. I’ll be right there.” Pope walked back to the driver’s side.

“What do I tell them?” Deran had been in ER’s before but he didn’t know how to describe what was going with Adrian, or even who to call on his behalf. Adrian was underage so didn’t a parent have to consent to treat him? When Deran had broken his arm, the doctor wouldn’t give him anything for the pain until Smurf showed up.

Pope thumped the top of the SUV, startling Adrian who cringed back against Deran’s side. “Tell them you don’t know where his asshole parents are and that he fainted earlier and now he’s all like this…a zombie.” He disappeared into the vehicle.

Deran aimed Adrian toward the doorway and tried to be patient as his friend shuffled along. Pope wasn’t kidding—Adrian was moving like a zombie.

The ER waiting room had maybe ten people waiting in it which was actually pretty sparse. Deran settled Adrian in a chair and approached the desk. The woman at the desk asked some basic questions about ‘the patient’ and gave Deran a clipboard with forms to fill out. He was filling them out to the best of his ability, Adrian’s head leaning on his shoulder, when Pope rejoined him.

“What’s taking so long?” Pope scowled as he looked around the room.

“Uh, it usually takes a while to be seen. Why don’t you help me fill these forms out?” Deran tried to distract his brother. Pope could show considerable patience when the situation called for it but he seemed like a grenade primed to explode. The funny thing—funny weird—was that Pope usually didn’t give Adrian the time of day but here he was on the verge of having a meltdown on the guy’s behalf.

Pope sat down on Deran’s other side and took the clipboard out of his hands. Deran had filled in everything he could, which wasn’t much, leaving the insurance and parent/guardian information blank. Pope scribbled something in the contact information and took it back up to the front desk.

It was another ten minutes before Adrian’s name was called. It took both Pope and Deran lifting Adrian up to get him upright, but once he was standing, he maintained his balance. He still used those shuffling steps and listed heavily toward Deran.

“Should’ve put shoes on him. The floor here must be one big Petri dish.” Pope grumbled but he didn’t regurgitate his usual statistics. It freaked out Deran that Pope was kind of freaked out, too.

The nurse, a tall stacked chick Craig would’ve hit on in no time at all, steered them down a hallway and deposited Adrian in a glass walled cubicle. “What seems to be the problem?”

Deran ran through the basics, from being told Adrian was sick at work, to his fainting, admitting he hadn’t eaten enough and then…this. Adrian sat on the exam table but he didn’t participate in the conversation and his eyes remained unfocused.

“I take it this isn’t his usual level of awareness?” The nurse asked.

He snorted. “No. Adrian is a bit of a smart-ass and he has energy. This is like Zombie Adrian.”

“Did he have access to drugs?” Julie was the nurse’s name and she didn’t sound judgmental but she also sounded like she’d already diagnosed Adrian.

Pope bristled at the implication. “The kid doesn’t do drugs and he was with us the whole time. He wouldn’t have had a chance to take anything.”

Not strictly true as Adrian indulged in weed but that wouldn’t cause _this_.

“Okay, I’m going to start by taking his vitals and then drawing some blood. We’ll see if we can figure out what’s going on.” 

Deran realized he mirrored Pope’s stance with his arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart as they both kept a close eye on the nurse. She frowned as she took his blood pressure which was an interesting exercise for her as Adrian tried to bat her away. He lacked the coordination and his throw was slow and wildly off the mark but the nurse didn’t like it.

Deran moved closer and caught Adrian’s arm. “It’s okay, she’s going to help you.”

Adrian, surprisingly, settled down.

“I’m going to draw some blood now. Maybe you could distract your brother for me. I don’t want to restrain him.” She pulled out what she needed and assembled it on a tray.

Deran’s feelings for Adrian were anything but brotherly but that must’ve been what Pope had indicated on the admission paper work. If it got Adrian seen by a doctor, he could live with it.

There was no way Deran would allow Adrian to be tied down. He kept his grip on Adrian’s arm and moved even closer, drawing his friend in to his side. “Just relax, Adrian. Listen to my voice and focus on me.”

He kept up a steady stream of quiet nonsense to distract Adrian but no one liked it when Julie inserted the needle into his other arm; Adrian let out a mournful cry that was just about the saddest sound Deran had ever heard.

“I’m going to put a rush on these. Why don’t you see if you can get your brother into this gown? Dr. Lynch should be in to see him soon.” Julie was out the door, tubes in hand, before Deran could say anything.

Brother? Every time the nurse said that Deran had the urge to giggle. Sure, he considered Adrian family but he didn’t think of him as a brother.

Deran wasn’t ready to put a label on it yet but he knew what he wanted was something more…just more.

He had to put that on the back burner until Adrian was better. Jesus, would this nightmare ever end?

-0-

Adrian was confused.

He knew he was in the hospital but he didn’t remember why. He hated the IV in his hand and the beeping on the monitor made his head ache worse.

Sometimes Deran was with him and those were the only times he could relax. Deran was the first friend he made. His best friend. 

He could hear voices in the hallway. One was deep and melodic and made him think of ice cream and guitars and—

“Daddy?” 

The voice in the hallway paused and then sobbed out a breath. “I can’t do this. I can’t risk losing him again. I need to go.”

“What the fuck, Dior? Adrian needs you.” Adrian recognized the other guy’s voice but his brain refused to produce his name.

“I’ll speak with the staff, let them know how to contact me, but I can’t be here. Take care of him, Pope.” God, he missed his dad. He’d never wanted to stay with his mom but no one had listened to him. 

Adrian wanted to see his dad. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rolled out. His legs didn’t want to hold him up and why did his hand hurt?

Some sort of alarm was going off and Adrian just wanted his dad. “Dad!”

“Hey, hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Deran was here. Deran made him feel safe.

That’s not who wanted, not this time. “I want to see my dad.”

“I’m sorry, he had to go.” Deran had his arms around Adrian but they weren’t comforting. They were holding him back. 

Keeping him from seeing his dad.

His face was wet and someone was sobbing and if Adrian couldn’t see his dad then he just wanted to go to sleep.

There were new voices in the room and Adrian tried to get away from them but Deran wouldn’t let him go. Something pinched his arm.

Adrian closed his eyes. _Please, just make it go away._

-0-

“The doctor said when he wakes up, we can take him home.” Pope sounded as tired as Deran felt. It was 3 a.m. and the only person getting any sleep was Adrian but Deran was pretty sure it wasn’t restful.

Deran scrubbed his hands over his face. “What else did the doctor say?”

“They found Clozapine in his blood.” 

He recognized that word. It was a medication? One that Pope—

“The spaghetti.” Adrian’s voice was cracked and hoarse. Was he hallucinating?

“Smurf?” Pope seemed to know what Adrian was talking about. That didn’t really sit well with Deran because he was the one who knew Adrian best.

Pope seemed to know a lot of stuff about Adrian but he’d refused to say anything when Deran had asked for an explanation. Everything had deteriorated after Adrian’s dad showed up culminating in Adrian freaking out. Pope had quietly agreed to fill Deran in later. Deran wanted answers and he was getting impatient.

Adrian sighed, rubbing his eyes, flinching when he made contact with his still bruised eye. At least they’d pulled the IV a while ago. “Yeah, Smurf. She told me which plate to give you but I took it. It had less food on it and I wasn’t hungry.” 

His friend was finally lucid. Thank fuck.

“That fucking bitch.” Emotions seethed behind Pope’s gritted his jaw.

Pushing the hair off of his face, Adrian sighed again. “Can we go now?”

Pope pushed away from the wall. “The nurse said you could. I’ll get her while you get dressed.”

Deran grabbed the folded sleep pants and t-shirt from the chair pushed against the wall. “Here. Do you need help?”

Adrian took the clothing and hugged it to his chest. “Was my dad here or did I dream it?”

Shit. Deran didn’t want to see Adrian cry again. Ever. The word _heartbreaking_ had always made Deran want to roll his eyes but he now understood what it meant. Watching Adrian cry for his asshole father who walked away from him was one of the hardest things Deran had ever witnessed. 

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. He couldn’t stay.” It was a lie but he couldn’t hurt Adrian, not right now while he looked like he could cry again.

Adrian just nodded his head, accepting Deran’s explanation. That was so fucking wrong. Adrian was awesome and his father was an asshole for not realizing it.

Deran turned his back while Adrian shed the white hospital gown and pulled on the blue sleep pants and gray t-shirt. When Adrian quit moving around, Deran turned back; the change in clothing didn’t really affect the pallor of Adrian’s skin but it was the pink eyes that bothered Deran the most. Sure, they made the blue of his eyes really stand out but they also showed just how miserable his friend was feeling.

Pope returned with a nurse and wheelchair. “I’m gonna pull the car around.”

That left the nurse who Deran thought would have to coax his friend into the chair but Adrian didn’t protest having to be wheeled out. His head was bent and his arms were folded over his middle. 

The SUV was waiting for them, Pope standing by the rear passenger door. Adrian pushed out of the wheelchair and crawled into the back seat. Deran climbed in after him.

Pope slid behind the wheel and didn’t comment about the seating arrangements. Instead of turning toward home, Pope aimed the vehicle in the other direction. “Um, where are we going?” Deran was too exhausted to make sense of this all.

“I have a place. I don’t trust Smurf after that shit she just pulled. Adrian can stay with me.” 

Deran knew his mouth was open but he couldn’t put words to his thoughts. There was a lot of information swimming around in his head and it was too late to make sense of it.

He understood Pope wouldn’t stay around Smurf, seeing as she had tried to medicate him against his will, but he was letting Adrian stay with him.

Adrian.

Deran’s friend.

“We all need some sleep. I’ll explain what I can after.” Pope sounded like his usual emotionless self but Deran could hear exhaustion dragging down his words.

He didn’t want to wait but he could barely keep his eyes open.

Adrian’s head leaned against the window and Deran was pretty sure he was asleep or close to it.

He guessed he could be patient a little longer.

-0-

Adrian woke up in a strange room.

The only thing that kept him from freaking out was that he recognized the arm thrown around his waist. 

He was on side, Deran spooning him from behind. Sometimes he wished he had the guts to talk to Deran, tell him how much he enjoyed this kind of cuddling with him, but he didn’t want to wreak their relationship.

This was the only relationship he could count on and he wasn’t going to jeopardize it.

Carefully inching out from beneath Deran’s arm, Adrian poked his head outside the door. Pope stood there, mug in hand, staring at him. The guy didn’t smile but he said, “Your backpack’s in the bathroom.” And he pointed to another room.

Adrian made use of the amenities, happy to shower and brush his teeth. Peeling the bandage off his hand where the IV had been wasn’t easy but he managed and then scrubbed the hell out of the site. 

Dragging himself out of the shower, he dried off and slipped into some track pants and a t-shirt. They were roomy but that’s the way he preferred his clothing.

Deran had joined Pope, both of them standing in what passed for the living room, standing with their legs shoulder width apart, sipping from mugs.

Adrian dragged himself over to the couch, sinking into its surprisingly comfortable cushions. “How do you know me dad?”

He stared at Pope and then it hit him: He knew those light brown eyes. 

Used to stare at them every day up until he was five. 

“Oh.” He scrunched his nose up. “Really? He and Smurf?”

Deran huffed. “Could someone please speak in complete sentences here? I’m not following.”

Pope turned to Deran. “Adrian’s my half-brother.”

Deran’s pink lips formed an ‘o’ but Adrian was too distracted by this information to really appreciate it. “How long have you known?”

“Not long. Maybe a week. I dug through some of Smurf’s papers and came across my birth certificate. Assuming she told the truth.” Pope stared at him. Instead of feeling threatened, it made Adrian feel a connection.

He knew those eyes. Hadn’t he always known deep down? That would explain why Pope had never really freaked him out.

Adrian pushed his hair out of his face. “It’s true. You have his eyes.”

Pope’s lips twitched upward; it was as close to a smile as Adrian had ever seen.

“So, you’ve talked to him?” Adrian remembered his dad talking to Pope outside of his room. Like they knew each other.

His half-brother shrugged. “Met him once. Talked to him on the phone a few times.”

_His dad—their dad—would talk to Pope but didn’t want anything to do with Adrian._

Bile crept up his throat and Adrian clapped a hand over his mouth. He surged to his feet. He staggered past Pope who tried to catch his arm but he ducked away from it.

He needed the bathroom.

He barely had time to shut the door and lock it before he was falling to his knees, ejecting his stomach contents into the toilet. There wasn’t much and that made it all the more painful.

Adrian could hear Deran’s raised voice but he couldn’t make out what he said, too busy making prehistoric noises like he assumed dinosaurs used to make calling to one another.

When the storm had passed, he wobbled to his feet and closed the lid, flushing the toilet. His toothbrush was still in there so he took advantage of it, scrubbing his mouth ruthlessly.

Lightheadedness hit him without warning and he failed to catch his balance, crashing backward until his ass made harsh contact with the closed toilet seat.

Cushioning his head on arms bent over the vanity, Adrian closed his eyes.

He just needed a moment to get his head on straight.

-0-

“Adrian, open the fucking door.” Deran pounded but his friend either ignored him or, more frightening, couldn’t unlock the door.

Pope appeared at his side wielding a screw driver. It didn’t take him long to unscrew the hinges and remove the pins, popping the whole damned door off.

Deran brushed past Pope, sinking to his knees next to Adrian. “Hey, Adrian, can you hear me?”

Adrian’s head was pillowed on his arms, leaning on the sink top, looking like he was ready to slide from his perch onto the tile. 

Deran lifted Adrian’s chin up and that had an effect where his words hadn’t and his friend’s eyelids fluttered up. “Deran?”

Dizzy with relief, Deran leaned his hip against the sink. “Yeah. I think maybe you’d be more comfortable in bed. Okay?”

Adrian’s unfocused eyes blinked. “Sure.” He held his hands out and Deran tugged him to his feet.

He half expected Adrian to collapse into his arms but his friend remained on his feet. Deran steered him out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom they’d shared. It was easy enough to tip Adrian onto the bed.

“Here, drink this.” Pope held out a bottle of water and when Adrian only blinked at him, Deran took it.

After twisting the cap off, he wrapped Adrian’s hand around the bottle and that seemed to galvanize his friend who sipped water carefully.

Deran stood by as Adrian swallowed half the bottle’s contents. “How are you feeling?”

“Better?” Adrian answered.

Snorting—the question mark definitely undermined the answer—Deran took the bottle out of Adrian’s hand. “You wanna maybe get some more sleep?”

Adrian’s head wobbled on his neck. “Mmmm. Thanks.” He curled on to side, hand bent beneath his cheek.

Deran jumped when a hand squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, I’ve gotta get you home before Smurf blows a gasket.”

“No way, I’m not leaving Adrian.” Deran straightened so he was at eye level with Pope.

“Adrian’s my brother, you don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of him. I think he’s safer here with me than at Smurf’s. He’s sure as hell not going back to his mother’s.” Pope folded his arms over his chest.

Deran was having a hard time wrapping his head around this piece of information. Pope and Adrian were half-brothers. Pope and Deran were half-brothers. Did that make Adrian and Deran…

“You can stop by after school, okay? Now come on. I want to get back here and get more liquids into him. I think that little episode in the bathroom undid most of the effects from his IV.” Pope moved out of the bedroom and as much as Deran wanted to argue, he could see the sense in what his brother was saying.

After tugging the comforter over Adrian, Deran brushed the hair from his pale face. He probably could’ve stood here, standing guard, but that was a little too stalkerish for him.

Heaving a sigh, Deran left the bedroom. “Does Smurf know that you and he are…”

“Brothers? Yeah. She’s always been just a little bit shitty to him and it’s probably because of her history with our dad.” Pope held his car keys and jingled them.

Rolling his eyes, Deran followed him out to the SUV. Now that it was daylight, he could see that this was a pretty sweet spot, right on the ocean, and that Adrian would probably be stoked once he checked it out. The unit itself was very bland but it had everything Pope and Adrian would need.

“You’re still my little brother, you know.” Pope never said comforting shit like that to Deran. He’d always left that to Craig.

“Yeah. It’s just…weird.” Deran still couldn’t put into words how he felt. Like maybe his feelings for Adrian were bordering on incest or something which was just plain weird considering Deran didn’t even know what his feelings were for his friend.

Except those feelings were more than _friendly_. 

Ugh.

He was going to have to figure some shit out.

-0-

Adrian didn’t know how to take Pope sometimes and as a result he spent most of the time in the bedroom he was using. The space was small and bland—white walls and ceiling, brown bedspread and tan rug—but maybe if it seemed like he was going to stick around a while, like it was his bedroom and not just a bedroom he was using, he could add some splashes of color.

The sticking around part was completely dependent on Pope’s good graces. Although Adrian could contribute to rent and utilities there was no way he was going to make enough money to split costs unless his career in porn really took off and that was a non-starter. Strangers touching him on camera was never going to look natural so he supposed this was a case of one-and-done. 

A beachfront property was serious cash and waiting tables at Breakfast Club Diner just wouldn’t cut it but what else could Adrian do? Maybe if he practiced more, he could make some money on the WQS. The WCT was out of his league but if he was going to dream, he might as well dream big.

A loud knock on the door made Adrian juggle and almost drop the joint he’d been enjoying. The window was open so at least there wasn’t a cloud hanging in the room but something told him Pope wouldn’t be pleased with his choice of extracurricular activities.

Another knock, hard enough to shake the frame, made Adrian stub out the joint in the tray on his bedside. “Uh, yeah?”

“I made you lunch.” Pope’s voice was gruff but then again it always was.

Adrian wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat but he also didn’t want to piss off the guy—his half-brother—so he sucked it up. “Be right out.”

When he emerged from the bedroom Pope stood in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. The guy was a couple of inches shorter than Adrian and although he was lean, he was also muscled but by no means super buff…he shouldn’t have cut such an imposing figure but he did.

“Do you always smoke so much?” Pope didn’t sound pissed; he sounded curious.

Adrian shrugged. He didn’t really want to get into it. He smoked more pot than some of his acquaintances but not as much as others. Sure, he’d been lighting up more regularly as of late but that was to counter his stress. Self-medicating was what his mom called it but her drug of choice was booze. 

The guy sighed, unfolding his arms. “I made grilled cheese sandwiches and heated some tomato soup.”

Detouring to the bathroom, Adrian washed his hands thoroughly, splashed some water on his face and then tidied up the sink. He knew from Deran that Pope was a bit obsessive-compulsive when it came to keeping house and Adrian was determined not to rock the boat. 

Pope nodded when he emerged from the bathroom and Adrian figured he’d passed inspection. He stood by the table and waited for Pope to point him to the right place setting. He nibbled at the edges of the sandwich, which was surprisingly good, and took some mouthfuls of hot soup, but soon his stomach churned, letting him know he’d had enough for now.

“You need to eat more.” Pope hadn’t eaten much more than Adrian but the way he squinted across the table at him made him think this was going to be a losing battle. 

Shrugging wasn’t going to cut it so Adrian decided to go with the truth. “I feel full. Too full, actually.” His hand lightly rubbed the area, trying to sooth it from the outside.

“I guess if you haven’t been eating regularly, that makes sense. We’ll work on that. For now, try to eat a little more.” That seemed like a demand but there was no way Adrian could comply unless he wanted to spend time on his knees in front of the toilet again. Just…no.

Adrian dipped his spoon into the soup and swallowed. His stomach lurched uncomfortably and he set the spoon down, rubbing his stomach again.

Pope stood up and grabbed his dishes, putting them on the counter.

Standing up, Adrian cleared his throat. “Um, I can do the dishes.”

“We’ll figure out how to split up the chores later. Just relax for now.” Pope went to the sink and dealt with the leftovers and the dishes. Adrian watched what he did so when it was his turn, he could duplicate it and not make Pope mad.

He thought about slipping away to his bedroom but Pope began talking. “You said some shit before we took you to the hospital and I think we need to talk about it.”

The nausea churning in his gut kicked up a notch. He kept his mouth closed because he worried if he opened it, he’d start vomiting. He wished with everything he had that Pope would stop talking.

He didn’t get his wish. “You told Deran someone had touched you and that bad things happened on the bed.”

Adrian felt lightheaded and clammy and more nauseous now than ever. His hearing went a little wonky, like when he got sucked under a wave, and when he surfaced, he was sitting at the kitchen table staring into Deran’s concerned face.

Deran’s smile was crooked. “Pope’s cooking didn’t agree with you?”

A bark of laughter jumped out of him without a thought. “Something like that. How was school?”

“I, uh, didn’t have to go. Smurf said I don’t have to go back.” Deran’s eyes were downcast so Adrian couldn’t read exactly how he felt about that bit of news; his relaxed body language said he was okay with it but without seeing his light blue eyes, Adrian wasn’t sure.

Although Deran had never liked school, he’d just gone because that’s where the kids were, so he probably was okay with dropping out.

“Oh. You’re okay with that? I’ll miss you but I’m almost out of there anyway.” Adrian waited for Deran to look up.

When he did, his face bore that crooked smile again. “I hate it there and Smurf knows it. She’s just trying to suck up to me, make me happy, so I don’t leave her, too.”

“As long as your happy.” Adrian settled on the bland sentiment but it seemed to be the right response because Deran’s smile grew brighter.

Deran stood up. “Pope wants to talk to us in the living room.”

Adrian remained seated, his body both chilled and too hot. “I can’t talk about…”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to talk about that. I think he wants to talk to you about your dad. If you want me to leave just say the word.” Deran scowled and if Adrian didn’t know him better, he’d think his friend was pissed off at him; the scowl meant he was worried and didn’t want to leave.

Adrian’s hand shot out, grabbing Deran’s arm. “No, please, stay. 

“Then come on, let’s get this over with.” Deran stayed within touching distance and even sat on the couch next to Adrian. His proximity brought Adrian a measure peace.

At least until Pope opened his mouth again. "Dior said he’d see you.”

Adrian folded his arms around his middle and gave it some thought. “He wants to see me or you browbeat him into it?”

Pope at least had the good grace to look uncomfortable; it was subtle but it was in the way his squint changed. Adrian was slowly getting to know his tells and the angle of his squint figured into it. “It doesn’t matter, you wanted to see him at the hospital and now he’ll see you.”

It did matter, a great deal, as it happened. “He doesn’t owe me any favors. As far as I’m concerned, Dior Dubois can go fuck himself.”

Pope’s dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That’s not what you said at the hospital.”

“At the hospital I was out of it, and didn’t feel good, and wanted the only parent who ever really gave a shit about me. Not enough to stay in touch so he must’ve only wanted me around when I was little and cute.” Adrian knew his face was red but he felt at peace with what he’d said.

Deran shifted his thigh so it bumped Adrian’s; it acted as a brace, strengthening Adrian’s resolve. 

“I appreciate you trying, but I don’t need my family.” Adrian recognized a flash of hurt on Pope’s face and it took a moment to parse what he’d said. “Um, I mean my old family. I think I’d like to see if this new one is any better.”

Pope didn’t smile but his face relaxed. It wasn’t that chilly, blank look but he seemed tranquil without the squinted eyes.

Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his thighs, Pope rubbed his hands together. “Your parents suck, I get it. Dior fucked off a long time ago and Smurf…well, you saw what she thinks of me when she tried to feed me medicated spaghetti. Parents aren’t always trustworthy and sometimes you’re better off making your own way.”

Deran shifted next to him and Adrian had a fleeting thought that what Pope had said about Smurf might be painful for his friend. Painful but true. But other than being patient, and supportive, there wasn’t a whole lot Adrian could do for Deran.

Or for Pope.

Making his own family sure had a lot more appeal than trying to win the approval, or affection, of the family he’d been born into.

-0-

Deran had gone back and forth and he still didn’t know if he was doing the right thing but Pope would figure it out.

Or make it ten times worse.

But if someone had taken advantage of Adrian…they deserved whatever his older brother did to them.

Pope let him into the apartment. “Adrian’s at work.”

“I know. I need to talk to you. About Adrian.” Deran’s brain was moving a mile a minute but his mouth could only spit out small amounts of information at a time.

“Come in the kitchen, I’m making iced tea.” Pope didn’t wait to see if Deran followed, he just walked into the other room. 

It was easier talking to Pope without having his whole attention on him so Deran gave small thanks his brother’s back was turned to him while he did stuff at the counter. “So, talk.” Very small thanks.

“Adrian did some porn.” The words burst out of Deran’s lips again, almost before he thought them.

Pope paused in his tea making, turning his head, lifting an arched eyebrow. “I can’t picture Adrian touching a chick, or being touched by one, especially since he can’t even tell us what happened to him.”

“Gay porn.” Deran waited for Pope to respond, demand how he knew Adrian had done gay porn.

“That makes more sense.” Pope surprised him by taking the news in stride. “And you’re worried because?”

“What if someone took advantage of him?” Deran’s voice rose alarmingly.

“Adrian’s pretty smart. You really think someone could trick him into, what, having sex on screen?” Pope turned around and faced Deran. 

Deran bit his lip. “Well, no, not really. But he doesn’t like to be touched and someone was pawing at him and it looked all wrong.”

“Did he look like he was in pain?” For the first time since Deran had burst into the apartment, Pope seemed to be suitably worried. Not outraged, like Deran was, but concerned.

“I couldn’t see his face but his body seemed all tense. He sure as hell wasn’t enjoying himself.” Deran huffed, willing Pope to react like he was.

“You didn’t see his face…okay, I’m going to say this once so listen up. I don’t care if you like girls, guys, aliens, whatever the fuck. You like what you like. But Adrian is all fucked up when it comes to sex so you’d better not hurt him.” Pope’s arms were crossed which usually meant he was done. The final period on the conversation.

Deran’s blood pressure shot up, his pulse pounding in his ear. “Are you giving me the shovel talk?”

Pope shook his head but his arms remained crossed. “You’ve always had Craig looking out for you. He can be a little short-sighted but he means well when it comes to you. Who has Adrian had in his corner?”

His mouth opened and then snapped shut without saying anything. He swallowed convulsively and thought things through. “He had me in his corner.”

“Right. All’s I’m asking is that you think twice before you do something.” With that Pope turned his back on Deran and started filling the pitcher holding urine colored tea with filtered water.

Deran dragged himself to the door. He’d outed himself to his brother whose only advice had been to not hurt his friend. His friend who just happened to be Pope’s other half-brother.

He kept thinking things couldn’t get any weirder and yet each day it did just that.

-0-

Adrian closed his bedroom door behind Deran and motioned him toward the bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He went about cracking the window open and lighting up the joint. It took a moment but Deran finally settled on the bed. When Adrian turned around, Deran was perched on the edge, his hands folded in his lap.

Holding the joint out, Adrian waited until Deran took his first hit before he said anything. “Pope told me you know about my short-lived porn career.”

Deran coughed and gasped, glaring at Adrian. “Nice timing there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it but I was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. Things were going south with Adriana and Steven and I wanted to get rent deposit together. Remember the night you were pissed I didn’t come over to get slithered with you and Craig? That’s the night I took the Amtrak to El Lay.” Adrian held his hand out for the joint; if Deran was just going to let it burn down then Adrian was going to start toking.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed money? I would’ve given you what you needed.” Deran crossed his arms and stared with squinted eyes; in that moment Adrian could see the similarities between Pope and Deran despite the different hair and eye colors. 

Adrian exhaled, enjoying the burn in his lungs. “Two reasons, really. I don’t want anything to do with Smurf and her money. I know she’s your mom but I don’t trust her. There’d be strings attached, for me but more likely you, and we can’t afford that tab.” He handed the joint back to Deran.

Sitting on the other corner of the bed, Adrian turned sideways so he could still see Deran. The other guy exhaled a huge lungful before turning and mirroring Adrian’s body language. “What’s the second reason?”

Shit. Adrian had forgotten he’d said there were two reasons. The second reason was the scary one.

The one that might blow up their relationship.

If Adrian shared his feelings—possible feelings?—and he freaked out what would that do to Adrian’s relationship with Pope? He didn’t want to be the reason there was a falling out, or worse, be left in the cold.

Deran thrust the joint into his face. “Come on, spill. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

A nervous giggle worked its way out of Adrian’s mouth as he accepted the joint. “I, uh, didn’t want you to know because I, uh, maybe like you? As more than friends? And I didn’t want you to hit me or turn your back on me or—”

Deran lunged toward him and Adrian squawked, wanting to scramble away, but he was holding the smoldering joint and he couldn’t get to his feet, his coordination already shot from the weed. 

Instead of punching him or shoving him Deran did the most amazing thing ever—he plastered his lips to Adrian’s.

Adrian had never kissed, or been kissed, and when he’d thought about it, he’d felt vaguely nauseous. Dry, chapped lips or worse, wet, sloppy ones, pressed against his own…why did people do that?

Now he got it. It was amazing. Deran’s lips weren’t too dry or too wet and Adrian giggled at the Goldilocks comparison he seemed to be making with lips instead of beds. 

Deran leaned back but kept his face close. “Is that okay?”

“Okay? No, it’s not okay.” Deran’s face fell at Adrian’s words and he quickly cleared up the misunderstanding. “That was amazing. Can we do it some more?”

-0-

Deran sat on Craig’s bed, his legs crossed, smoking another joint. He’d wanted nothing more than to stay with Adrian, teaching him the joys of French kissing, but Smurf had wanted him home and he wasn’t ready to face off with her. 

Yet.

He was happy Adrian seemed to be thriving away from his mom. Despite going to school and working twenty hours a week, his friend no longer seemed to be on a hunger strike and although he was still quiet, it wasn’t as bad as before. He’d shared with Deran why he’d kept quiet about doing porn and at first Deran had been hurt but when Adrian had told him he had feelings for him…Deran couldn’t believe his luck.

Of course, as Adrian’s life seemed to improve, Deran’s was on a downswing. Smurf was pissed about Pope moving out, and moving in with Adrian, and a pissed Smurf meant more jobs and more attitude.

Craig was also pissed. “How long have you known Dior Dubois was Pope’s father?” The scowl looked unnatural on what was usually the happy-go-lucky expression Craig kept on his face.

“Since the day after the spaghetti debacle. Adrian needed parental consent for treatment and Pope somehow knew how to get in touch with that prick. Of course, the guy fucked off immediately after signing the papers but Adrian figured it out, something about them both having brown eyes.” Deran had been trying to play catch up at that point but Adrian, despite having been drugged with Pope’s medication, had figured things out pretty damned quickly.

“That sucks, man.” Craig was mad at Pope, and maybe a little at Deran, but he didn’t seem to hold anything against Adrian. “On paper his parents seem like they’d be kickass but they’re both douchebags.” 

For a moment Deran thought about telling Craig his own big secret. He just couldn’t find the words.

He also hadn’t figured out what his status was. Was he GFA—Gay For Adrian—or Adrian-sexual or what? He only knew he’d never felt so good as when he’d kissed Adrian.

And that was just a kiss. Deran would rather kiss Adrian than kiss the girl from the party. Or bang Mindy or Candy or whoever that chick was from the pool party earlier in the year. 

“What are you smiling about?” Craig’s posture had relaxed; he was most likely more hurt than angry at this point but his brother reverted to his usual baseline good mood. 

Deran saw his cell phone, sitting next to his knee, light up with a text. “Nothing really. Just happy things are getting back to normal. All this drama sucks.” 

Picking up the phone he opened the message from Adrian. _Epic waves. U & C meet us @ Pier?”_

“Adrian wants to know if we want to meet him and Pope at the Pier. He said the waves are epic.” Deran wanted to go but he’d agreed to hang out with Craig and he wasn’t going to leave him high and dry. Pope had been right—Craig had always been in Deran’s corner. Except when he was giving Deran shit but he supposed that was an older brother’s prerogative. 

“Does Pope know Adrian invited me?” Deran wanted to roll his eyes at Craig’s antics but Deran had felt something similar over the perceived shovel talk. 

“You think Adrian’ stupid enough to invite us without clearing it first?” It might actually not occur to Adrian to ask Pope but if there was one person in the world Pope wouldn’t eviscerate, verbally or physically, it was his newly found half-brother. 

Deran had never seen Pope so concerned, and so caring, before and it was a little freaky but in a good way. Now Adrian had two people looking out for him even if they were both Codys. 

Craig snorted. “Good point. Yeah, sure, let’s shred some waves.” 

Deran texted back the response. He knew he sported a dumbass smile again but hanging out with Craig, Pope, and most of all, Adrian, made him happy. 

Pope had been right when he’d essentially told Adrian to pick his own family instead of relying on his biological one. At least that’s what Deran believed. 

Maybe one day Deran would cut loose from Smurf. For now, he’d just see where things took him, especially when it came to Adrian. 

His best friend and something more. 

-0- 

Pope bobbed gently on the swells while he waited for his turn in the lineup. 

Craig had just caught a wave and Pope could hear him yelling in excitement. Deran and Adrian were behind Pope, waiting for their turns. 

“Hey, Pope, can we order pizza later?” Adrian’s request was unexpected but welcome. The kid needed to eat more, and regularly, and if pizza sounded good then Pope would get it along with a salad. 

“Yeah, sure.” Pope called back. 

He could hear Deran sputtering his disbelief that Pope had agreed and Adrian teasing him and Craig whooping in the distance…for the first time in a long time, if ever, Pope felt at peace. 

The situation with Smurf, and Baz, would need to be dealt with but he didn’t think there was any rush to it. He was out of their reach and he could take his time while he figured out what needed to be done. 

If it was one thing Pope was good at, it was the long game. 

Then there was Julia. His twin. She had been the closest person to Pope growing up and then Smurf had cut her out of their lives. 

Pope had let Smurf cut Julia out of his life. 

Things were different now, or at least they were going to be. 

Pope didn’t even know if Adrian was aware Pope had a twin. That Adrian had a half-sister. 

A commotion behind him made Pope paddle around so he was facing his younger brothers. 

Deran and Adrian were wrestling, or trying to wrestle, but surfboards weren’t meant for that no matter how good someone’s balance was so it was no surprise when they both tipped over into the water. 

Just as quickly both shot out of the water. 

Both laughing. 

Arms entwined around each other as they floated and splashed each other. 

He was conflicted about those two. Deran had been screwed by virtue of being born into their family. Adrian’s upbringing had been less violent but the kid had been neglected and possibly sexually abused at some point although he still wasn’t talking. Pope wanted to take care of both of them but he had trouble enough taking care of himself. 

Pope was going to do his best though. He didn’t want to turn into Smurf, inserting himself into relationships and blowing them apart so he hoped in the future he wouldn’t be forced to act. He would though, if it came to that; he thought maybe he had a chance at having something more. That his life could have some meaning. That he could do actual good for once. 

For now, he’d just hold his tongue, sit back and observe. It was what he was good at. 

Finis 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last fic for my hurt/comfort bingo card and the prompt was hunger/starvation. I hit my target goal of confetti bingo (I filled every other prompt) which was 13 stories and they're all in the Animal Kingdom fandom featuring Deran and Adrian who were sometimes an established couple and sometimes discovering their mutual attraction.
> 
> I would like to mention that at some point in January we'll be kicking off an Exchange Event for Deran/Adrian shippers (or Deran & Adrian centric). What is this event, you're asking? Please keep an eye on my Tumblr account [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/heatherofthenight) for details.
> 
> Thank you for reading this fic!


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